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Recently, it dawned on me that many of the bloggers I followed five years ago have faded into the woodwork. I was a newbie back then, and there was a core group of writers I developed a rapport with, many starting out themselves. Most of us bonded through Six Sentence Sunday, a weekly blog share. Over the years many have stopped posting, a few embraced Facebook as their platform of choice, and—sadly—one passed away.

Every now and then I might hear from an old friend and that contact instills a sense of whimsy for the early days. When publishing was new and scary, and terms like blog tour, media kit, and and mobi were Greek. If I’ve lost contact, some of that is my own fault.

After two books that were romantic in nature, I made a switch to mysteries and romantic suspense. As an author I’m happy where I’m at, straddling a line that crosses genres and has moved the emphasis away from the bedroom. But it makes me wonder—where have all the bloggers gone?

Even within the last few years, new friends have come and gone, surfacing on the grid while working on their novel, only to disappear after the release. My Twitter stream is filled with authors who launched a profile only to have crickets replace their feed months later. What is it about this industry—yes, it is an industry to those who stick with it—that devours staying power?

Is it the fact that we have to juggle multiple tasks—writing, editing, book promotion, social media exposure, reading, betas, ARCs—in addition to our family life and day careers? Being an author is not for the faint of heart, and I will be the first to admit there have been times when the pressure made me want to toss in the towel. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that I would have to start over, rebuilding all that I had worked to obtain. For even as I thought about quitting there was no doubt that I would be back. Writing is not something I can walk away from. It’s been a constant in my life from the time I was a child, and I have no doubt it will remain so until I leave this Earth for good.

That said, my blog has languished recently due to the constraints of daily life. I’m going to try to rectify that and hope to return to a more regular posting routine. For those of you who don’t already know, I vanish offline each week from Friday evening to Sunday evening, the intervening hours set aside for family and my regular writing routine. I try to catch up with the blog posts I have missed by Monday, but due to the sheer volume of blogs I follow, it’s not always possible. If I miss you on the weekend, I will catch you during the week. I don’t want to be one of those bloggers who vanishes into the woodwork. I have made many good friends over the last few years. New friends I don’t want to lose.

Where have all the bloggers gone? Right where we’ve always been—supporting and helping each other. For the record, you guys rock.

Today, during the Story Empire roadshow, I’m delighted to welcome Joan Hall to my blog. She and I have a similar love for mysteries and small town settings. Don’t miss out on meeting some of the characters who populate the small town in her book Unseen Motives. Take a look . . .

Small Towns Have Secrets

Hi everyone. I want to thank Mae for hosting me on this second stop of the Story Empire Roadshow. Yesterday I gave you a brief view of the fictitious town of Driscoll Lake. It’s a growing bedroom community, but still small enough that many residents know one another.

Many people prefer to live in small towns where the crime rates are low and life takes on a slower pace. Bud even small towns have secrets and Driscoll Lake is no exception. I probably should say some people in the town have secrets.

Stephanie Harris is my protagonist in Unseen Motives. She comes back to town for the first time in twenty years for a funeral and soon learns someone doesn’t want her to stay. She receives a “welcoming” note the day she arrives and two others. Someone follows her home one night in an attempt to frighten her, and then she receives a threatening phone call.

Instead of allowing these things to scare her away, Stephanie is determined to learn more about the circumstances surrounding her father’s death.

Stephanie doesn’t know who to trust. Even her high school crush Matt Bradford first acted as if he doesn’t want her around. Their initial meeting was less than friendly and Stephanie learns he was in her aunt’s house only hours before she found the first note.

Brian Nichols is another former classmate. Once the town renegade, Stephanie was convinced he would be in prison by now. When she saw him shortly after her arrival, she was surprised to learn he became a successful building contractor. He acts friendly, but when she wants to question his mother (who was once her father’s secretary) Brian is hesitant to allow it. He tells Stephanie its best to leave the past alone.

Kyle Lawrence, a local newspaper reporter, is eager to help. But Stephanie learns from his wife Christine that Kyle has an obsession about her father’s crime. He was only sixteen when the events happened. Why would he have such an intense interest? Does he have something to hide?

Rachel Jackson is the daughter of Madelyn Cameron Denton, the woman Stephanie’s father murdered. While Rachel accepts the police investigation of her mother’s death, she doesn’t want the past revisited. However, Stephanie can’t imagine Rachel being behind the threats. Rachel isn’t that kind of person.

Then there is the unknown man who makes certain he’s aware of Stephanie’s activities. When he isn’t watching himself, he has people within the town to spy upon her. He can’t afford the truth to come out—to do so would destroy everything he’d worked hard to achieve.

As you can see even people in small towns have their secrets. And small towns aren’t exempt from crime. Murder, suicide, embezzlement. Who would have imagined something like this would have happened in Driscoll Lake?

And be sure to check out tomorrow’s tour stop where I’ll be talking with Matt Bradford, Driscoll Lake’s handsome police chief.

At the end of the week, I’ll select two random winners for $10.00 Amazon gift cards. To enter, leave a comment below. What do you think about these characters? Can you tell which ones have unseen motives?

I’m not usually a big fan of Facebook. Especially since the only way to realize any true benefit there as an author is to shell out $$$….but when I have paid for boosts or ads, I’ve always had good results. (Note to self: continue to use FB for ads).

On a side note—before I get to the main topic—if you are paying for boosts, make sure your next several posts don’t require a large reach. Rumor has it FB holds those posts back with the philosophy if you’ve paid once, you’ll pay again. Eventually, things will even out, but the posts that immediately follow any kind of paid ad or boost generally reach less of your fans. Time for filler and fluff.

But enough with FB bashing. I’m here to say they’ve done something pretty awesome for authors. Thanks to my dear friend Sandra Cox, I’ve discovered the Author App. Sandra has a fun website with daily posts that are sure to make you grin. She’s also got a wonderful collection of novels and novellas that range from mutants and vampires to cats, flower gardens and more. While you’re roaming the blogosphere, pop over and say hello. 🙂

And now back to the reason for this post:

I’m know I’m probably behind the times since Facebook and I co-exist as frenemies, but I wanted to share the Author App in the event some of you aren’t familiar with it either

It’s easy to install on your author page.

Click the link (provided below)

Select your page

Go to the app (it will most likely appear under the “More” tab at this point)

Add your profile

Add books

You can even add information on upcoming book signings!

The screenshot above was captured from the app on my page.

Pretty nifty, huh? Each book gets its own little section, and the best part is all you have to do is add the AISN or ISBN and the app automatically grabs the related content. You can also arrange what order you want your books listed.

I did discover, however, that the app doesn’t like apostrophes or italics (basically anything that isn’t HTML compliant).

After my books uploaded, I went back and edited all of the apostrophes getting rid of the gobbly-gook. Now I’ve got a neatly streamlined page with books, purchase links, and star ratings. I added all seven of my novels, then rearranged the tabs on my author page so that the Author App is visible without click “more.”

See the Author App tab above? If you’d like to see how the whole thing works, visit my page and click on the Author App tab for the full effect of how your books appear. You also get an author profile. You can find my page at https://www.facebook.com/maeclairauthor/

If you haven’t visited my page before, I’d also be grateful for a “like.” 🙂 If you include the link to your page in the comments below, I will return the favor!

I’ve got a treat for your today. Actually a double one. Craig Boyack of Entertaining Stories and I are doing a blog swap. Craig and a “special guest” I asked him to bring along are taking over my blog, while I’m hanging out at his. I’m talking about my experience offering a book for free on Amazon. Was it worth it? You’ll have to check my post on Entertaining Stories to find out. 🙂

Meanwhile, I’ll leave Craig and his companion to keep you entertained. The special guest he brought along is only one of the many colorful characters from Craig’s imagination that haunt his blog. I just happen to be partial to this particular character. Maybe because I can relate to how it feels when he drops in for a visit. You’ll see what I mean in a minute, so sit back and enjoy Craig’s post. . .

~ooOOoo~

I walked up to the shop and checked the map on my iPhone. A huge raven whooshed over my head and landed in a tree. This looked like the right coffee shop, and I took a seat outside. Mae asked me to come here and write about my editing process and the blessing/curse that follows me around.

The truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to editing. I’ve learned a trick or two and made notes in my living document. I looked around the parking lot, but there was no sign of Mae. I took a table outside so I could watch for her.

I started writing this blog post; any available minutes can be precious. The raven swooped down and landed on my table. See, he’s a gift from my Muse, and tries to keep me looking professional. The bird’s name is Doubt.

I’ve learned to search out my personal sin words, like “that, very, was, and the various forms of its and there.”

These days I’m trying to eliminate what I call stage directions. These are usually things like “said, heard, saw, smelled, felt.” If we’re in a character’s point of view, it’s better to describe someone walking across the parking lot, than to write, “she saw someone walking across the parking lot.” This is a new one for me, but I believe my writing is better for it. I learned that from Doubt.

Doubt pecked at my hand. Krik krik blork.

Ravens make hundreds of noises, more than common crows. I really don’t know what they all mean. This one even manages to mimic a few human words. I’m guessing he doesn’t like me using contractions in a blog post. It’s a blog post, it’s supposed to be a bit more familiar to readers. Now I have doubts. That’s how he works.

I have to put him away when I draft my novels. If I listen to him during the draft phase, I never get anything done. My Muse says he helps me, but I have my doubts.

I love my stories, all of them. I even love the trunk novels that no one will ever see. Doubt gets into my head, and keeps me from the most egregious mistakes. The run of the mill mistakes are mine, and sometimes they get in. I’ve learned not to listen to him in every case.

I thought he was going to peck my hands bloody, when I edited Will O’ the Wisp. This is the first thing I ever wrote in first person point of view. He didn’t like the over use of “I and my.” I changed what I thought I could, but some of that has to happen in first person point of view.

The trick is to listen to Doubt, but to also override him when needed. I’m still not sure who’s right in some cases, but I’m learning. Doubt would have all my fiction looking like a lawyer wrote it, and he would take all the character out of it. Fiction needs character, and sometimes it’s the best part of the story.

Too much input from Doubt leads to perfectionism. Perfectionism is the bane of many writers. It prevents us from putting out acceptable work for fear it might have a mistake. I personally believe we learn more from drafting new material. Not everyone feels this way.

Kaw! Doubt pecked at my iPhone.

“We’re at the right address.” I checked again anyway. “I wonder if I wrote it down right in the first place.” See how he works. A little Doubt goes a long ways. “Why don’t you fly around and see if you can spot Mae Clair. Maybe she’s at a different coffee shop.”

Doubt slit off the table and took to the sky. I kind of hoped to give him to Mae for a month or so. I get a lot accomplished when I don’t have Doubt getting in my way.

~ooOOoo~

Craig’s newest book is WILL O’ THE WHISP, a highly entertaining novel which combines elements of magical realism, mystery, and fantasy, as well as an appealing coming of age theme.

BLURB:There is something evil up Bergamot Holler, and it’s been targeting the Hall family for generations.

Patty Hall is fifteen years old. She loves stargazing, science fiction, and all things related to space exploration. This leaves her perfectly prepared for the wrong problem.

Patty is afraid her mother will send her to a care facility if she tells her what she’s seen. If she doesn’t figure things out soon, she’s going to join her father in the Hall family cemetery plot.

Patty has to come to grips with her own physical handicap, face the wilderness, and an ancient evil all alone if she’s going to survive.

Will O’ the Wisp is suitable for young adults. It involves elements of suspense, and is set in the mid 1970s.

No, I’m not talking about one-star reviews. Thankfully, I’ve been spared that particular blemish, but I’m sure my day is coming. The greater audience you manage to reach, the more opinions in the fold. It goes with the territory. As writers, I think most of us learned early on you have to have a thick skin.

But I recently discovered a side of Goodreads I didn’t know about.

As a reader, I enjoy GR. It helps me track what I’ve read, and what I want to read. It sorts, categorizes, allows me to set challenges for myself, and hang out with like-minded bibliophiles. I’ve gotten great book recommendations through the GR newsletter and other members. So far, GR is looking pretty golden, right?

Check.

As an author, I appreciate the platform it gives me. I know I don’t use it as effectively as I should, but I do use numerous features available to authors consistently. I’m thrilled by the exposure it allows. As for those features I’m still trying to determine how best to utilize, I need to squirrel away the time to study them in detail.

My bad, which means we’re still golden.

Now we come to ratings. And flexibility. Yeah, notice the last word.

As I reader, I look for those snazzy GR stars (along with reviews) to help me determine what to read next. As an author, I’m able to see how readers view my work. Whether we choose to admit it or not, stars count. So what do you do when a reader ranks a book they haven’t read—that hasn’t even been released?

Did you know about this?

Apparently, some GR readers use the star rankings to determine how eager they are to read an upcoming release. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing if that particular ranking system was kept separate from standard review rankings, but Goodreads lumps them all together. Am I the only one who was clueless?

In the past, when I looked at ratings on GR, I assumed the person ranking one of my books had actually read the novel and rated it without giving it a review. Now I wonder if that was even the case.

Worse, I presently have a 3-star ranking on a book that hasn’t been released yet. ARCs aren’t even available. True, three-stars isn’t the end of the world but it can be when other GR members (like me) assume that person must have gotten an ARC and wasn’t all that impressed.

Would I be as bummed if the book had been given 4 or 5-stars? Probably not.

But seriously–wouldn’t it be easier (not to mention less confusing) to have two rating systems for readers who want to use GR’s stars that way? Goodreads has already given us a “to read” shelf. Why not add a rating system within that shelf instead of muddying the review status?

What’s your opinion? Good or bad?

Do you use GR’s stars to determine what to read, or do you use them solely for review rankings?

It’s been a while since I’ve had a guest author on my blog. Today, I’d like to welcome Julie Kavanagh, who’s dropped by with her latest release, DEMON BLOOD.

Julie, please tell us a bit about yourself and how long you’ve been writing.I think I’ve always written or, at least, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. As a child, I penned silly stories for my dolls to listen to (they couldn’t move, and therefore, couldn’t escape). As a teenager, I wrote a dreadful novel about a pop star and his world of drugs – something I knew nothing about then or now. I had moderate success writing sweet romance for women’s magazines and even entered a competition run by the wonderful, late Marian Zimmer Bradley who advised me not to give up writing although I didn’t win that competition.

You’ve been at it a long time and sound like you’ve made some great transitions along the way. And how lovely to have received such encouraging personal feedback from Ms. Bradley!

When it comes to starting a new novel, I always look forward to choosing the names for my characters. How do you choose yours?I find my characters name themselves. I rarely have trouble coming with their names. With Luca, the principal character in the Demon witch series, I knew who she was before I knew I would be writing her story and although, Luca is a boy’s name, I knew she would explain why she’d been given it.

I love when characters get assertive, LOL. Please tell us more about your newest release.My latest release is ‘Demon Blood’, which the eighth book in the Demon Witch series. In this novel, Luca’s life has been turned inside out by her grandsire, Lucifer. Her family doesn’t know her and she has had to painstakingly gather her loved ones to her side, and although drawn to the power she exudes, they are wary of who she is. A tragedy leaves Luca bereft and alone once more.

Which character did you enjoy writing the most and why?I love writing about Luca and the many difficult situations she gets herself into. I don’t want to write about a perfect character and the many wonderfully kind things they do and Luca has none of those qualities. She is half witch and half demon, and struggles to stay on the right path. She is unpredictable, sometimes mean and cruel, but great fun to watch as she battles through the many misfortunes I set her. Her relationship with Eliot, her Pack leader, is enormous fun to create.

It’s wonderful when you enjoy a character so much. How about sharing the first three sentences of your book?I watched four of them from high up on the hill. I had a secret place I’d built, just in case, and this would seem to be the perfect ‘just in case’ occasion. I stared at them in my garden… my garden!

Hmm…I have a feeling she’s not happy about them being there! And now, switching things up a bit, when you’re not writing (or reading) what do you do to unwind?I like to listen to music, I knit, sew and crochet. I’d love to paint and play the piano but never had the knack. Spending time with my family is very important to me. We love to watch movies and do the whole thing with popcorn and ice cream … great fun.

It sounds like a great time, especially with the ice cream and popcorn J Moving away from writing, what is your:

Favorite season: My fave season with always be spring. I love watching the blue bells and daffodils appear from the dark soil. Winter can be such a claustrophobic time with its dark grey skies that the brighter days of Spring lift my spirits and promise warm summer days to come.

Favorite time of day: I’m a night owl, always have been. Even as a child, I found it difficult to sleep when I was supposed to, and would read books by the light of the street lamp outside my bedroom window. As a result of my nocturnal awakenings, I find it very hard to get up in the morning for work.

Favorite TV show: I don’t have one fave TV show but a host of several. I love anything paranormal such as Supernatural, True Blood but I am obsessed with A Game of Thrones. I’ve read the books but the show is so much better, I love it.

Favorite animal: My favorite animal is a cat. I have seven cats at home. Most of them are rescue animals or unwanted pets. Two were feral when we got them but they are the most affectionate of all our cats.

Favorite author: My fave author growing was Stephen King, I loved his books and would be found queueing outside our local bookshop for his latest release. My fave author now Is JR Ward, her Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels are fantastic reading. I highly recommend them to anyone who enjoys a dark paranormal romance.

Seven cats? Wow. It’s wonderful that you’ve taken in so many rescue animals, Julie. I love the rebirth of spring too, and have been known to devour more than a few Stephen King books in my time. I’m not familiar with JR Ward but will have to look her up.

Thanks so much for being my guest today. You’re obviously a prolific writer with the number of books you’ve written.

Recently, the lovely Alicia Coleman honored me with the Very Inspiring Blogger award. Alicia and I originally met when we took a Savvy Authors course together, and have remained friends since. She’s hard at work on an upcoming paranormal romance release that I know you’ll love. Thank you, Alicia, for thinking of me!

In accepting, I am required to

Link back to the person who nominated me for the award.

Display the Very Inspiring Blogger Award logo (isn’t it attractive?)

Reveal 7 things about myself

Nominate others to receive the award and continue the fun

So here goes:

My favorite book boyfriend is Aloysius Pendergast. I am in awe of authors Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child for creating such a mesmerizing character. I would love to see some of their books made into a movie (especially Fever Dream which cries out to be filmed) but am afraid no living actor could ever begin to capture Pendergast. The man has no equal (well, maybe Gerald Tarrant, my other book boyfriend). In the meantime, I can dream. 🙂

I grew up in a small town and to this day dislike big cities. Probably why I have never been to—gasp!—New York City.

Rarely does a day past that I don’t speak to, or think of, God.

I detest any type of red meat and am “weird” about most other forms of meat, although I am not a vegetarian.

I would willingly give up chocolate before chips or bread.

I really enjoy talking with senior citizens, especially when they share their life experiences.

I am an introvert who dislikes being the center of attention, but I love to dance. On a dance floor, I have no problem being an extrovert!

And now to pass along the award. I nominate the following bloggers to carry the torch, should they wish to participate:

Nineteen-year-old Lieska Alura, a Dralion warrior from the planet Magio, calls an Australian Outback station her home away from home. Hounded by her skilled hunter senses, she is on a mission to track down one man, her soul-bound mate.

Peacian protector and hunter, Cole Cyrano, is driven by his soul’s demand to find his mated one, a woman he knows is his enemy. Dralion and Peacio are at war, and he ignores his soul’s call. Except Lieska shows up during a fierce training session inside his protectors’ arena, and his soul demands he protect her.

Completely, yet impossibly matched, they decide to renounce their bond, only not all goes as planned when Lieska receives word bushfires rage across her Outback station. She leaves, and now nothing can keep Cole from the hunt. He joins Lieska in driving the station’s cattle toward the mighty river, and the chase is on…against both nature and each other. Can the mated pair find their place together in a world at war?

A Young Adult, New Adult Fantasy Romance

~ooOOoo~

HUNTERFree 28th, 29th, 30th January 2014(Tell all your friends to grab a copy)

HUNTER is a story which will take you deep into the Australian Outback and across those great plains. This is a stand-alone novella within my fast-paced YA/NA fantasy romance line, where across worlds, soul-bound mates battle against both love and land.

I brought my heroine from HUNTER with me today. Lieska’s a warrior hunter from Dralion, and is soul-bound to Cole, a protector from the enemy nation.

Joanne: Hey, Lieska. Thanks so much for taking the time to come and sit with me over here at Mae’s. So, I’ve got to ask. You and Cole? How is it being soul-mated with him?

Lieska: Since he’s a hunter like me, it’s been a blast of who can out-chase the other first. He’s super speedy, but I love every minute of our hunts. Cole’s incredibly smart, funny, caring, sexy— Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said all that. His hunter senses will be on fire if he catches a whiff of any of this stuff. No one here at Mae’s can whisper a word of what I just said. *smiles nicely at everyone*

Joanne: Gotcha. I’m sure we can all do that. So, looking back at that first day you met Cole inside his protectors’ arena, do you have any regrets about walking in? And what about confronting him?

Lieska: I just wish I could have kicked some protector butt before I met Cole. That would have been fun. And confronting Cole? I’ll never regret that. Heck, he kisses like a—

Cole: *marches in and runs his gaze over Lieska* My ears are burning. I wondered where you’d gotten to.

Lieska: I see you hunted me down again.

Cole: I found something of yours to track you with, and I couldn’t help myself. I love the chase. *pops a kiss on her nose as he sits* So, what are we all up to?

Joanne: We’re just hanging here at Mae’s. She said we could drop by, so we have. Not sure where she’s gotten to though, probably work. You wanna track her down for us, Cole?

Cole: Hah. You just want to get rid of me so you two can keep nattering. Nope, I’m staying. *crosses his arms*

Lieska: Stubborn hunter. *tweaks Cole’s chin*

Joanne: Alrighty then, well if you’re staying, then let me ask you a question, Cole. What’s it like being soul-bound to your sworn enemy?

Cole: It’s agonizing to keep the secrets I have to. Most of my fellow protectors would slice and dice me if they ever found out I’d accepted the mated bond with Lieska, but we’ve got Hope and Silas on our side, and Faith and Davio. They’re mated enemies like us, and it helps they know exactly what we’re going through. And being soul-bound with Lieska is incredible. I can’t give her up, not now, not even with all the problems we’ve still to face.

Joanne: Those guys are great. In the next book in this series they’re right there in the mix with Silvie and Guy as they undertake their journey. Things get pretty heated, but— Um, I probably shouldn’t go on about Enchanter since the third book doesn’t release until the summer. I better zip my lips.

Lieska: Gee, you are such a tease. You’ve gotta tell us what happens.

Joanne: Nope, I’m not spilling another word. Go and hunt down Hope and Faith if you want more goss. They’re in the story. They know it all.

Lieska: Oooh, did you just dare me? We hunters love a dare. *tugs Cole to his feet* Come with me. I’ll need your extra senses to catch them.

Joanne: Hey, come back here you two. We’re in the middle of an interview. Unbelievable. Oh, well I guess that’s it from us. Thanks for joining in. I hope you race out and grab your FREE copy of HUNTER and track down Lieska and Cole and discover more about their story.

HUNTER is the perfect short story to get you started on the series, and likely hooked. Full-length novels, PROTECTOR and WARRIOR are available, and ENCHANTER (book three) is coming real soon.

~ooOOoo~

HUNTERFree 28th, 29th, 30th January 2014(Tell all your friends to grab a copy)

Chains cranked, and the solid paneled iron gates at the entrance rolled open. This was what I’d been waiting for. Finally I’d be able to see inside the three-story high open-aired arena. It was a beauty with its ancient circular architecture.

“Wow. Do you see that?” Hope whispered to me from where we hid in a bush.

I shoved the brush farther aside, and we both poked our noses in. The protectors’ arena was close in size to our fighting force’s in Dralion. Their blocked seats were layered back and up and able to hold thousands of spectators. Groups of protectors trained on the central sandy floor with swords and spears and axes, with likely more beyond. Some of the men wore red tunics with leather-flapped skirts, and they lunged and parried, as accurate with their brutally sharp weapons as any warrior would be. The women trained in their battle leathers. So close. This was the chance I’d been waiting for. It had definitely been right to bring Hope. Hopefully she’d be able to help me keep a level head.

“Let’s go.” I gripped Hope’s hand and ’ported us. Everything darkened as I made the short jump through space.

Hope wobbled as we arrived near the wall. “Lieska, what the heck are you doing?”

“You saw the gate open. It’s an invitation I can’t turn down.” I plucked the sides of my hip-hugging black leather pants. “Look at us. I’m dressed no differently to any of the protector women, and you’re completely unassuming in jeans and a t-shirt. Except for this. The Stetson has to go. It screams Earth.” I nabbed it and tossed it behind a flax bush growing beside the wall. “Now no one’s going to suspect we’re from Dralion unless we announce it. We’ll be normal people, not catching a second glance.”

“Geez, I hate how my own words come back to bite me.” She shook her head. “Just make sure you don’t announce our arrival your way. No throwing any daggers at the protectors, because that would be announcing it, in case you weren’t aware.”

“I’m aware, and I’ll try and keep them sheathed, maybe.” I couldn’t stop from rubbing my hands together. Finally I’d have a chance to sort this problem. The hunt was on. I strode in and the breeze lifted my long brown locks and swept strands across my face. Two men battled close by and one of the men’s blade’s struck flesh and bone. Blood spurted in a wide arc. My blood thrummed to join the fight. Oh yeah. I wish I’d been the one to inflict that wound. The injured man grasped his arm, holding the edges closed. His blood ceased running and his skin began to knit together. A fast-healer. Damn. What a shame.

“Ew.” Hope puffed as she caught up. “Are your senses still on fire?”

“Burning bright. So stay close in case I need to ’port us out of here quick.” I followed the safety rail around the perimeter. My senses flared. There. A man in black jeans stretched as if readying himself for training. The denim molded his butt. Mm-mmm.

He selected a two-handed sword from the rack and twirled it in a precise figure eight. Slowly he built up speed, and moved through a series of fluid training moves. He held the battle skills, and only those who had such an affinity for their weapon did.

“Is that him? The one you’re after?” Hope hauled me to a stop.

“Yes, and it appears he needs a battling partner. Wait here.”

“I’ll wait provided you agree not to kill anyone.”

“We’ll see, just don’t draw any attention to yourself.”

“Huh, I can’t believe you’re telling me not to draw attention to myself. Hello. Give yourself your own pep talk.” With a harrumph, she snuck under the railing. She plopped onto the wooden bench and grasped the edge under her knees, squishing her knuckles.

“I would take my own advice, except I don’t think I’m up for listening. That’s why I have you.” She was one of my best friends, even though she’d accepted a protector as her mate. I could deal.

Stroking the hilt of my ever-present side sword, I walked toward the one my senses had flared on.

Reading romance books captivated Joanne Wadsworth as a teenager, particularly when she tucked herself into bed at night and continued to dream those stories as she slept. She’d visualize the direction, taking the hero and heroine on an adventure unparalleled to what she’d read. Today she is devoted to writing romance, bringing her imagination to life within the lines of young adult, contemporary, and historical Highlander.

Born in New Zealand, Joanne works both as a writer and a financial controller, all while keeping up with her four energetic children and dreamy husband.

Today I’m pleased to turn my blog over to my friend, Daisy Banks, who has a delightful post about fairies. Not only does she have a fairy-themed release coming from Liquid Silver Books, VALENTINE WISHES, but she just may convince you the fey folk are still flitting about.

She’s also doing a giveaway, so check out the details at the end of the post to see what you can win. In the meantime, grab your beverage of choice, help yourself to the virtual pastry tray, and enjoy the story as Daisy provides a bewitching glimpse into the realm of the wee people.

~ooOOoo~

I do believe in fairies. I do! I do!
by Daisy Banks

Thanks so much for inviting me to the blog today, Mae. It is a pleasure to be here.

Now, it might strike the readers as a little odd a grown woman will say I believe in fairies, but it is true, I do. I grew up in a family who all knew fairies existed, and the little people certainly played a part in my childhood in our family home. I have tried to look up some fairy lore to explain about the fairy habit of ‘borrowing’ items. It seems generally agreed fairies do this, sometimes to the point of great irritation of the mortal owners of the objects they take. Some say fairies will only take things you as a mortal don’t value enough, and other sources say fairies will only take food items. I think I’ll just have to continue to believe if an object vanishes and later reappears it is because some fairy or other had need or desire for it for a time.

During my childhood, and still today, things disappeared in my parents’ house on a regular basis. Not big things like furniture, but small things, pretty things, items fairies might find interesting or useful. I have a couple of examples of these disappearances I remember well and can share with you. One was a ring of my mother’s, a very dainty item that went missing from its usual storage place in a cranberry glass bowl in a cabinet. My mother hunted high and low but to no avail, until resigned to her loss she announced ‘the fairies have borrowed it’. I’m not sure if when mom spoke those words she influenced the wee folk to return the ring, but eventually they did. The strangest thing was, the ring turned up one day in its usual place in the cranberry glass dish. There is no logical explanation to this at all.

A similar thing happened with one of my dolls, not the doll itself, but one of its shoes vanished. I was quite put out about loss, as I liked the shoes and only had one left for my doll to hop in. My mother consoled me by telling me the fairies had borrowed the shoe and if I was patient, eventually I would get it back. Some time passed, several weeks I believe, until one day my mother went into the front parlour for something, a room we didn’t use every day, and there placed on the arm of a wing backed chair was my doll’s shoe. How the doll’s shoe got into a room I wasn’t allowed to play in, I have no idea, and no explanation springs to mind. All I can say is I agreed with my mother; the fairies had returned the item to me.

I guess you can understand that with such a background of fairy experiences it’s not surprising I have written a story involving a fairy. My latest story, to be published by Liquid Silver Books on the 10th of February this year is Valentine Wishes. This is a sweet and saucy Valentine story of a fairy who grants a big wish to help her mortals and creates chaos.

Here is a little snippet from Valentine Wishes:

“There yer are, I knew yer were here. I’ve been waiting for ye all night.”

She spun around at the velvet caress of a voice she remembered so well. “No,” she squeaked.

Him!

Not possible.

Her stomach knotted and she wanted to crawl away and hide.

His golden hair glinted in the glow of the colored lights and he smiled wide in greeting. She could hardly keep herself in the air. A wave of heat scorched her face.

His eyes still entranced with hazel gleams. She ached to throw her arms around him, and as she steadied herself, she swept her gaze up to his face again. He still had the most enticing lips she’d ever seen.

Oh, by the wind in the leaves. How many hours did I sit among the daisies and wonder what it would be like to kiss him? She shook herself, torn between long held hopes and tonight’s despair. He had to go, at least until later. “I can’t speak with ye now, Cedar. I’m busy.”

I’m thrilled to turn my blogging pen over to Christina Cole today as she shares her new release SUMMERTIME, along with some amazing memories of summers past. Oh, how I wish I had my very own catalpa tree and could “go down to Frank’s” in Indian Grove!

Please welcome Christina and enjoy these wonderful memories!

~ooOOoo~

Memories of Summertime
by Christina Cole

With the recent release of Summertime, my latest historical romance from Sweet Cravings Publishing, I’ve been talking to readers a lot about their favorite summer memories from childhood. Today, I thought it would be fun to share a few of my own.

First, I have to point out one fact. I’m old. Ancient, is the way my kids put it. I’m old enough to remember when houses were cooled with window fans, and the few stores with air conditioning bragged about it in their advertisements. Oh, how refreshing it was to walk into a “dimestore” that featured that latest, and greatest technology. The unfortunate thing was that you couldn’t stay there forever. Once you’d finished your shopping, you had to step back out into the sweltering heat. Needless to say, shoppers dawdled as long as they could.

Another sweet summer memory was going to the Dari-B. It wasn’t a big, fancy place like today’s Dairy Queens or Baskin-Robbins, just a little wooden building with a sliding window at the front. You stood outside, placed your order, and when the window opened you could feel a rush of cold air from inside. Your only choice was vanilla or chocolate, but those cones sure tasted good on a hot summer’s evening. You had to lick fast though, because a single scoop could melt away in minutes. Going to the Dari-B became even more of a thrill when I was about thirteen and had a gigantic crush on one of the boys who worked there. Nothing came of it, but I sure ate a lot of ice cream cones that summer.

One of my favorite summer places was the old catalpa tree. It was in Dick Moore’s yard, several houses down the street from where I lived. Dick Moore was an oddity in the neighborhood, a single man living among a dozen families with children. He was a lawyer, and I always had the idea that he made a lot of money, but that was all I ever knew about him. I remember how everyone in the neighborhood poked their heads out of their doors to gawk the one time Dick Moore brought a lady home to his house. We probably scared her away!

All the kids loved the old catalpa tree. We climbed it, held club meetings beneath its branches, and we girls used its huge, heart-shaped leaves and fragrant flowers to design fanciful hats and bracelets. Mr. Moore would sometimes come home to find a dozen of us either in the branches, underneath, or scattered about his catalpa tree. He’d wave or nod and go inside. Never once did he ask us to leave.

On really hot days, we’d beg and plead for someone to drive us to Lake Maurer, a public swimming pool and recreational area on the outskirts of town. If all else failed, we’d gather our swimsuits, towels, and suntan lotions, and set off on foot. Usually some kind soul would take pity on us and give us a lift. Back then, there were no strangers, and nobody had ever heard the term “stranger danger”.

We’d swim in the pool all day, splashing and kicking, shrieking and laughing, and when evening came, we’d finally crawl out of the water, exhausted and waterlogged. Next we’d play a round of miniature golf, or ride the Lake Maurer Special, a wooden train that took us around the bend and back.

The best memory of all was “going down to Frank’s.” Frank Zungs was my great-uncle, although I hardly knew him. He passed away when I was very young. He’d bought a huge old farmhouse in a little place called Indian Grove. The population of the Grove was about 12, which included Frank, his widowed sister, Nina, and his brother, Mike. My grandfather would take my sister and me “down to Frank’s” every summer. Even after Frank was gone, we still called it “going down to Frank’s.” It was always fun to read the “society pages” of the newspaper from the nearest town, because we were society! Yes, in a little place like Indian Grove, it’s news when somebody sneezes, and having relatives come to visit was worthy of several paragraphs. We really thought we were important!

I have a lifetime of beautiful memories from the summers I spent in Indian Grove, and many of my thoughts and feelings found their way into Summertime. As I wrote the story, I thought about that old farmhouse, about sitting on the porch in the evenings, about listening to the sounds of the bullfrogs as I fell asleep.

Summer is always a special time. Thanks for letting me share a few of my memories with you.

~ Christina

Don’t you just love this gorgeous cover?

About Summertime:Linn Sparks wanted all life had to offer. Fame, fortune, glamour and excitement. She found it as a star of the stage at the Crown Theater in San Francisco.

For Ed Ferguson, life was far less complicated. All he wanted was Linnie Mae, but she’d left him standing alone at the altar seven years before when she’d run off to pursue her dreams.